Edge of Midnight (11 page)

“I’d seen you before,” he told her. Every slow stroke of the comb through her damp hair was a caress. “All the guys on the crew were talking about the big boss’s gorgeous daughter, back from prep school. Then one day you came to the site with your dad. You didn’t even notice us poor bastards staring after you. Tongues dangling to our knees.”

She racked her brains, trying to remember. “I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true,” he said. “You wafted past, looking off into the distance. There goes the porcelain princess. You can look, but you can’t touch.”

“I am not made out of porcelain,” she whispered.

“I know that. I know exactly how warm and soft you are.” He tossed the comb onto the bed, and ran his fingers through her hair, fanning it out over her shoulders. “I’ll tell you a guilty secret,” he murmured. “I wasn’t auditing Kev’s class to learn organic chemistry. I knew that material by the time I was twelve. I came for you, Liv.”

Sean McCloud in full-out seduction mode was deadly dangerous. She groped around for something to deflect, distract. “Is it true that you bombed the teacher’s bathroom when you were in sixth grade?”

He froze, and started to vibrate with laughter. “Wow. Of all the ghosts from my past, that’s the one I least expected. Who told you that? Was it that asswipe Blair Madden? He always was a fucking snitch.”

“Just answer the question, please,” she said primly.

“Aw, hell. It was just a couple of molecules of gunpowder packed into a milkshake straw, duct taped shut with a fuse attached. I wouldn’t dignify that by calling it a bomb. I did wire the door to that stall shut, so no one would use it, and when Harris headed in to take his afternoon dump, I sneaked in and lit the fuse. I wanted to teach him a lesson. I didn’t want to blow his ass off.”

She twisted around to see his face. “Why did you do it?”

He shrugged. “I was angry at him. Kev aced all the math tests. Harris accused him of cheating. As if Kev needed to cheat on seventh grade math. He was already studying theoretical physics. On his own.”

“I see,” she murmured.

“Harris got Kev suspended. That pissed me off.”

His hands were busy in her hair, stroking slowly down its length. She turned, caught him pressing a lock of hair to his lips. He dropped it, lifted his hands, his face mock-guilty. “Oops,” he whispered. “Sorry.”

She looked away, stifling a giggle. This was nuts. She’d almost died today, and this man was making her act like a silly girl.

It was so easy to laugh with him. It was one of the most seductive things about him, and practically everything was seductive about him.

She’d been so shy back then. Not only with boys. With everyone. But once she got over her initial slack-jawed stupor at how gorgeous he was, Sean had been just pure, goofy fun to be with. He made her feel smart and witty. Never made her feel like she’d run up against a blank wall of incomprehension. Never made her feel like what she said was being picked apart and twisted to serve someone else’s hidden agenda. He just listened to her, thought about what she’d said, and responded.

It was effortless, it was wonderful. It was magic.

And it still was. Damn him to hell, it still was. Those who do not remember the past are condemned to repeat it. Or at least to repeat that saying.

She steeled herself. “Has it occurred to you how weird this is? Sweet-talking me, after what you said to me the last time we met?”

His stroking hands stopped, and his body went very still. “No, actually,” he said warily. “I was just enjoying being close to you.”

“So that conversation is one of those insignificant things you decided not to remember?” She was horrified to feel her throat start to quiver.

He didn’t answer. She felt the heat of his face, pressing hard against her shoulder. “I remember it,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” She shoved his knees apart to free herself, and kept her back to him while she adjusted her robe, and her face. “You must have a split personality. There’s the sweet, cuddly Sean, and there’s the cruel, horrible Sean. Is it fun to wind women up and then watch them flap around when you dump them? Do you secretly hate women?”

“No.” His mouth was a hard, unhappy line. “I don’t. Not at all. I especially don’t hate you. I’m sorry I did that. I had my reasons.”

For some reason, this infuriated her all the more. “What an odd thing to say. Shove somebody off a building, then run downstairs, stand over their broken body, and say, “Sorry, but I had my reasons.”

“Liv, I—”

“I know your reasons. Having a clingy chick like me glomming onto you bored you. So why are you here? I’m the same damn person, just older and stodgier. If I bored you then, I promise, I’ll bore you now.”

“You never bored me,” he said.

“So had you found someone more exciting than me? Someone more sexually skilled? And that was your way of getting rid of—”

“No,” he said. “Christ, no. Can we please just start again?”

“No, Sean. We can’t.” She spun on her heels and headed towards the door, but as she grabbed the knob, he seized her from behind, sliding his arm around her waist and pulling her back against his body.

“No. Wait,” he pleaded. “Just a second, Liv. Please.”

She gathered her breath to scream. He clapped his hand over her mouth. She bit, squirming. “Shh,” he crooned. “You have a right to be mad. Bite me, kick me, just don’t force me to cope with your mother.”

She betrayed herself with the muffled snort of laughter. He carefully lifted his hand away. “If you don’t want to deal with my mother, don’t break into her house,” she said. “You’re suspiciously good at it. Is burglary the career path you finally settled on?”

“No. Believe it or not, breaking into houses is not something I do on a regular basis. I only broke into this house because you were in it.”

He sank to his knees. She backed away, suspicious of the wicked gleam in his eye. “What the hell are you doing now, for God’s sake?”

“Begging for mercy. Trying to come across less threatening. I’m too tall. Do I make you nervous?” He lurched towards her on his knees.

“Certainly.” She backed up until she hit the wall. “And kneeling does not make you look harmless. It makes you look ridiculous.”

He grinned. “Cool. I get all kinds of mileage out of ridiculous.”

“Not with me you won’t,” she warned. “The clown game will not work with me. I am so not charmed, you get me? Not. Charmed.”

He lurched across the room towards her on his knees. “Being scolded by a tough, unrelenting bitch goddess in a silk robe is just about the most fun I’ve had in fifteen years.”

“Stop it! I cannot believe we are having this conversation. I should be screaming about the armed intruder in my bedroom.”

He blinked at her innocently. “How do you know I’m armed?”

“Oh, just a wild guess? You look like the type.”

“I do? Aw, shoot. And I thought my disguise as a normal person was working. Usually I don’t pack. It makes me tense. But I was already tense today, what with bombs and whatnot, so I brought my trusty SP 101 Ruger.” He pulled up his jeans, showed her the revolver in the ankle holster. “I’ve got a knife on the other leg. And my hands and feet could be considered lethal weapons, if you wanted to be picky about it.”

“Oh, give me a break,” she muttered. “Lethal weapons, my butt.”

“I have a legal permit to carry concealed,” he assured her.

“Are you showing me all your macho hardware to impress me?”

He chuckled softly. “I don’t know. Would it work? What would impress you the most? Tell me. I’ll try to deliver.”

“Seeing you act like a grown-up, for once in your life,” she snapped. “Though actually, that wouldn’t just impress me. It would astonish me.”

His smile faded. He gazed at her, and rose to his feet. “What’s the grown-up thing to do?” he asked. “That’s a toughie, for a maturity challenged clown like me. The most grown-up thing would have been to stay away from you in the first place. I’ve already fucked that up. Next best would be to crawl back out of the rathole I came in. Slink back to the gutter with my tail between my legs. Is that what you want?”

Liv opened her mouth to say yes. The word would not form. She coughed, and tried again. “Don’t guilt trip me,” she said. “It’s not fair.”

“Hold your breath. I’m going to act like a grown-up for the first and probably only time in my life. Don’t blink, or you’ll miss it.”

“Would you just stop being ridiculous—”

“That’s what I’m trying to do.” His voice rang. “I need your help, though. Say it simple and clear, in a language that even a cement-head like me can understand. Say, get the fuck out of my bedroom, Sean, and stay away for the rest of my natural life.”

She swallowed, over a lump in her throat. “And you’ll go?”

“And I’ll go.”

Seconds ticked by. He stared, waiting. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. Seconds turned to minutes.

“You’re not saying it, princess,” he prompted finally.

Goddamn him. Her hot face quivered. She put her hands over her face before it could crumble. Sean watched her cry, unembarrassed.

She couldn’t stand it. She spun around, put her back to him.

“I’m getting more confused every second,” he said softly. “It’s dangerous to confuse me, baby. Ask anyone.”

She shook her head. “Just shut up. You sadistic bastard.”

“That’s a good start, but it’s not what I told you to say. Say it. Toss me out, if you’re going to, because the suspense is killing me.”

“Fuck you, Sean McCloud.” The words burst out with breathless violence.

“Sure, baby.” He sounded as if he were smiling. “In a heartbeat.”

“Don’t.” She forced the words out through the knot in her throat. “Don’t jerk me around. Stop torturing me.”

“I didn’t mean to.” He sounded puzzled. “I just wanted to talk. See T-Rex’s emails. Make you smile, since you had such a shitty day. I didn’t mean to make you cry.” She shivered, as his hand came to rest on her shoulder. “If you don’t want me to leave, what do you want?”

“Why even bother asking?” The words burst out with a bitterness she hadn’t known she felt. “I can’t get what I want. You taught me that.”

“I did?” He parted her damp hair, and pressed his hot lips against the back of her neck. “I’m sorry I did that. But you know what, Liv?”

“What?” she whispered.

He kissed it again. “Sometimes you can get what you want.”

She shivered, almost whimpering at the soft, hot caress of his mouth, the light pressure of his teeth against her sensitive nape.

“No. I can’t,” she replied, voice quivering. “The price is too high.”

“Sometimes the price is worth it.” The edge of his teeth dragged over her skin, then his lips, in a devastatingly gentle kiss.

“I’m crazy to let you touch me,” she whispered.

“Yes,” he agreed. “Crazy wild. I love the way your hair grows down to a swirly cowlick, right here at your nape. With that sexy beauty mark right beneath it, at four o’clock. So fucking beautiful, it just kills me.”

She shook with a shaky mix of laughter and tears. “Get real.”

“I am real. I remember every last one of them.” He circled his fingertips tenderly over the silk covering her shoulders. “Go on. Test me. I’ll draw you a map of the beauty marks on your shoulders and back. I memorized them, like the constellations. Then we can compare.”

“Yeah, right,” she muttered. “I know your slimy dog tricks.”

His lips moved over her shoulders, his breath a delicious caress. “I went nuts for the one on your left foot. About an inch above your big toe. I always wanted to just fall to your feet and smooch away at it until you were giggling like crazy. Then I’d work my way up. Slowly.”

Liv opened her eyes. The door to the bathroom hung wide open. Drops of condensation rolled down the full length mirror on it, making a surreal, striped field in which their dark forms were half reflected.

Sean’s eyes burned into hers. Her face looked almost frightened, eyes dilated. Her cheeks flushed hot, moist red. The sash of her robe had slipped loose, as if mischievous fairy fingers were teasing it open.

She didn’t move to stop them.

Close it, goddamnit, the little scolding voice in her head said. Yank that sucker closed, tie the sash tight, and say what has to be said to make this guy disappear. He’s more trouble than he’s worth. Way more.

The yammering voice faded into a meaningless blur of white noise in the back of her head. In the forefront, the image of the two of them in the mirror grew ever clearer as drips coursed their way inexorably downward, each one washing its own stripe through the steamy surface.

The robe gaped a little more now, though neither of them had moved. He could see her body. Her taut nipples pressed against the delicate silk. The valley between them, the heavy undercurve of each one, the swell of her belly, the dip of her navel was all clearly visible. The tuft of dark hair that covered her mound.

And she was letting him look. As if he had a right. As if she wanted him to. As if she’d been waiting for years, offering for years. Aching for him to look at her, to touch her. To take her.

The silence, the darkness, wove a spell around them both, thickening until it was palpable. It was a deep, throbbing hum, blotting out thoughts, fears, doubts and leaving only feelings. Wild, unruly feelings that were gathering a huge momentum, swelling into a power she could not hope to control. Her eyes were locked with his in the mirror, and the slow-growing realization became a certainty.

The impossible, the unthinkable, was about to happen. She was actually going to do this. He was going to seduce her, and she was going to let him. His hand drifted around, touched her face. Cupped her cheek. She blushed even hotter beneath his hand. Turned her face to him, leaning into his touch, like a cat being petted.

She terrified herself. She hadn’t thought herself capable of such depths of self-destructive stupidity, but she wanted this, desperately.

Why not? Why the hell not?

The decision abruptly made itself, without her help. Yes. She would live this fantasy, in full. No stupid romantic expectations.

Just hot sex. After all this drama, she was entitled to that much.

He traced the edge of her ear, swirling in tenderly to circle the inner whorl, sending shudders of pleasure through her startled nerves.

He smoothed a clinging lock of hair away. She licked her lips, her breath coming sharply. He touched her lips, his hand moving with majestic slowness in the breathless silence, the way a tangle of clasped hands moves over a ouija board, searching for mysteries and magic.

He trailed his fingertip over her chin and below, moving with delicate precision over her throat. He paused over her racing pulse, dipped into the hollow of her collarbone. His touch was reverent; so soft, she could barely feel it—and yet, she could feel nothing else. As if his fingertip left an incandescent thread of glowing light in its wake. He continued his relentless journey downward, pausing over her heart. It thudded against her ribs. Her breath was ragged. He was walking a fine line through a minefield of anger and doubt, with such sure steps. He didn’t try to open her robe, he didn’t grope or grab. He just stayed the course. Sure that she would open for him.

Like a flower blooming open to the sun.

His hand ventured lower, circling around her navel. He dragged in a sharp breath, and his hand dipped lower still, hesitating for an agonizing moment before it brushed across the very ends of her pubic hair. The faint, teasing contact jolted excitement through her body.

His hand stopped moving. And he waited, muscles trembling, his erection pressed against her bottom. Waiting for a signal.

She moaned, her thighs unlocking with a shudder of surrender.

He let out a low, triumphant sound, like a growl that raised the hairs on the back of her neck. His finger traced the damp slit of her vulva and delicately parted her, sliding into her slippery hot center.

The sensation was unbearably intense. Her knees buckled, her muscles gave. Sean caught her across the waist, pulling her back against himself to steady her. “I’ve got you. Let go. I’ll hold you.”

Her wiggling and heaving had opened her robe, and he could see it all, her heavy breasts, her plump belly, her rounded hips. His teeth sank into her neck, the growling sound vibrated against her neck. God, he was good, and she was so excited. So hot and soft, swollen and throbbing. The tiny muscles of her groin clenched around his hand, fluttering in frantic excitement, and her thighs clenched and released, and he was swirling his fingers around her clitoris, fluttering, pressing, and she tipped forward right into that terrible, wonderful moment of no return. A breathless free fall through space, and then…oh God.

It went on and on, the cresting wave that broke and pulsed like sea foam surging and frothing over gleaming sand. Pleasure that throbbed through every limb, to her fingers and toes. Leaving her drenched, gasping, dangling in his arms like a puppet with cut strings.

When her eyes finally fluttered open, she hardly recognized herself in the mirror. Her flushed face, heavy-lidded eyes. Sean’s golden, muscular forearm clamped across her middle, her hair draped across it, breasts spilling over it. His hand still clamped between her thighs.

She usually had to try so hard to guide her lovers down the long, twisty path toward making her come, but it was an arduous journey with no guarantees, and normal men didn’t have that kind of patience.

No biggie. She’d gotten over it. Sex was about cuddling and company, not about orgasms. She had better luck when she flew solo anyway. Accompanied by her vibrator and her Sean fantasies, of course.

This was a whole new universe of dazzling sensations. Emotions.

“Can you stand up?” he asked, still nuzzling her neck.

His erection prodded her back. His arm clamped across her ribs so hard, she couldn’t expand her lungs, just make choked, shallow gasps. She locked her knees. There was a desperate urgency in his shaking grip.

“My God.” He pulled his fingers out of her and held them up to his face. He licked them greedily. “You taste amazing. I’m starving for it.”

“Good.” She twisted around, and grabbed the buckle of his belt. She had to do this quick, before she lost her nerve. “So let’s eat, then.”

He stood there, oddly passive and uncertain, while she struggled with his belt. When she got it open, he seized her arms, stopping her. “Wait. Before we do this we need to, uh, clear some things up. I wanted to tell you why I said what I said in the jail. I can explain—”

“No,” she cut him off. “Don’t. Please. I don’t want to know.”

She gave his belt buckle such a hard, angry wrench, he stumbled towards her with a low exclamation. “But it’s important.”

“No, it’s not. I’m not interested,” she said. “I don’t care. Don’t spoil this for me, please. Give me this much. Let me play out my fantasy.”

He scowled. “This is not a fantasy, Liv.”

“It is for me,” she told him. “And that’s all you are. I don’t want to hear any bullshit. I don’t want to be lied to or made a fool of, by anyone, ever again, you hear me? I’ve got real problems, Sean. My life is screwed. My business is wrecked. There’s a guy out there who wants to kill me. What was going on in your mind fifteen years ago is no longer relevant or even interesting to me.”

“But it’s not what you think,” he protested. “I didn’t—”

“I don’t want to know why you thought it necessary to hurt me like that. I cannot imagine anything that could justify it. I won’t give you a chance to do that to me again. All I want is…” She trailed off.

“For me to fuck you,” he finished flatly. “No more than that.”

She actually laughed, the words were so incongruous. “What do you mean, more? What more could there possibly be?” She jerked her gaping robe shut. “Don’t get huffy. If it offends your delicate sensibilities to be used, just put your hard-on back into your pants and get out.”

She was horribly reminded of his metamorphosis in the jail. The warmth in his eyes had gone out like a candle, leaving blank chips of green reflecting glass. It unnerved her to see his face like that.

She locked her knees and concentrated on not wobbling.

“OK,” he said, after a tense pause. “I’ve made my decision.”

“Oh, have you?” She knotted her sash with a jerk. “And?”

“I’ll stay and service you,” he said. “I can’t leave here in this condition. My dick feels like a steel spike. I’d probably injure myself.”

She couldn’t breathe at all, now. He was so scary, with that remote expression on his face. Sexual energy pulsed off him in waves.

He whipped his shirt off over his head, flung it to the floor. Crouched down and unbuckled his ankle holster, the knife strapped to his other calf. He pried off his shoes, his movements swift and practical.

The seduction that had imbued every word and gesture was gone. He was just getting down to business. Her belly fluttered with doubt.

He shoved his jeans down, stepped out of them, kicked them away. He did not wear underwear. He stood before her, his legs in a wide, aggressive stance, his erection jutting out before him.

His thin smile had no warmth to it. “Want to take a closer look? Check my teeth, measure my cock? See if I’m up to standard?”

Hah. As if she needed to. His sarcasm deserved a sharp reply, but she couldn’t come up with one. She was too busy staring.

Don’t gape. Don’t give him the satisfaction, her little voice nagged, but it was useless. She was speechless.

He was amazing. Big and broad, jutting out of the springy bronze tangle of hair at his groin. His thighs were hard with muscle, rough with hair. A thick knotwork of veins throbbed along the base of his shaft, the huge, flared glans was flushed an angry red. A gleaming drop wept from the slit. He covered it with his fist, rubbing it over himself with a rough hand. She’d never been with anyone that big. Nowhere near.

“So? What’s the verdict?” he asked. “Do I make the cut?”

“Oh, would you just shut up and do your job,” she said shakily.

“Fine. We don’t have anything to talk about, so let’s get right to it.” He advanced on her, and she backed away instinctively, sitting down abruptly on the bed when she hit it with the back of her knees.

Sean loomed over her. His scent was heat and salt and sweat, the dark musk of maleness, the spicy hint of some soap or cologne. She let out a tiny squeak as he grabbed her hands, and wrapped them around his penis, sliding them roughly up and down his length.

“Here,” he said. “Get acquainted.”

Oh, whoa. He was so hot and stiff, his skin so soft. He pulsed beneath her cool, trembling hands. She felt his heartbeat in her fingers.

More gleaming liquid dripped from him onto her hands, and he pressed himself against her cupped palm. “Squeeze it,” he said. “Hard.”

“I’m—I’m not very—”

“Get your hand wet with your lube, too. Rub it over me until I’m all slippery. I want those lily white princess hands to rub royal pussy juice all over my cock. Mmm. Luxurious.”

“Would you quit it with the princess cracks?” She touched her fingertips to the hot, throbbing moisture of her vulva.

“No.” He sank to his knees and pushed her thighs apart. “That’s not going to do the job. Do it like this.”

She gasped as he thrust two fingers slowly, deeply inside her, and wiggled, whimpering, as he curved them into a gentle hook, pressing upward and circling a soft, throbbing spot inside her that grew and flushed, wider and wider, until it encompassed everything. It resolved into deep sobbing jets of pleasure, like a fountain inside her.

She sagged over his hot damp shoulder, panting. His hair was silky and fragrant against her face. She sucked in gasps of his scent.

“Ah,” he murmured. “That was amazing. So hot. You squirted girl jism right into my hand. God, I fucking love that.”

“I did?” She lifted her head, bewildered.

He pulled his dripping hand out of her, grinning triumphantly, and stroked himself with it until he looked like he’d been oiled. “Magic juice. Makes me hard enough to drive nails. Hold me, Liv. Squeeze me.”

He dragged her hands up and down his shaft until the slow, pulsing rhythm milked another shining drop of fluid out of him. His penis bobbed in her face. He cupped the back of her head in his hand and tugged, very gently, a wordless question in his eyes.

She let out a nervous little giggle. “You can’t expect me to…oh, dream on! That thing wouldn’t fit in my mouth.”

“I don’t care,” he said. “Kiss it. Taste me. Seal our bargain.”

He stroked the hair on the back of her head, his eyes fixed on hers. She could feel the power of his will, working on her like the huge, inexorable force of a magnet. She gripped him tighter, so that the bulb shone, taut and swollen and hot. Desperately eager for her touch.

He swayed obediently closer, his breath harsh and audible.

She pressed her lips to the end of his penis. Flicked her tongue over the small slit. Licked up the drops of moisture. He shuddered, groaned. Yes. He was salty and good. His body made magic juice, too.

Emboldened, she assaulted him with her tongue. His hands tightened in her hair as she twirled her tongue around the ridge of his glans, flicking at the tender part beneath it, stroking the taut, delicate skin, savoring the metallic taste of his flesh, hot and swollen.